Rutledge Shepp
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Rutledge Shepp's Books and Stories
Regret Is Useless: The Mafia Queen Rises
Mafia I was a Mafia Princess, and he was the gutter rat I tried to make a King.
On our wedding day, with five hundred guests watching, Luca Moretti didn't say his vows.
Instead, after receiving a photo of a secret child, he looked at me with panic and backed away from the altar.
"I can't do this," he announced to the silent church. "She's here. She'll ruin the kid."
He chose a waitress and their illegitimate daughter over me.
He walked out, leaving me humiliated in a dress that cost more than most people's lives.
Forty-eight hours later, he married her.
He gave the waitress my ring, my future, and his name, all to protect a child he had hidden from me.
When I confronted him weeks later, he looked at me with cold eyes and told me he did it for honor.
He destroyed me to save them, convinced I would fade away into the background.
He thought he could break a Vitiello and not pay the price.
Five years later, I returned to Chicago.
The gala went silent as I walked in, wearing blood-red silk.
Luca approached me, eyes full of regret, begging for a second chance, claiming his marriage to the waitress was a mistake.
He thought he could win me back.
Until a little girl ran into the room—my daughter.
And behind her walked my husband.
Not a soldier, but the Reaper himself, Dante Cavallaro.
Luca’s face turned pale as he realized the truth.
He had left me at the altar to play father, but I had married the Devil to become a Queen. Lies, Love, and Loss
Romance My wedding was three days away when the police told me my fiancé, David Reed, was dead, lost to the sea in a hiking accident. Just like that, I became a pregnant widow, my world turning gray.
Then, David' s older brother, Mark Reed, returned from Africa. When I saw him, the resemblance to David was shocking, a ghost in my living room with a slightly deeper voice. I found myself staring, haunted by his presence.
One night, the baby kicking, I overheard voices from the study. It was David' s laugh. My blood ran cold, and I crept closer, the door ajar. "You have to be more careful, David. She almost looked at you funny today," Eleanor whispered. "Relax, Mom. She' s a wreck," David sneered, his voice dripping with confidence. My grief was a joke.
He had faked his death for Aisha, a mistress he planned to return to once her supposed terminal illness ran its course. I was a backup plan, a safety net. His mother, the woman who had held me while I cried, was in on the disgusting lie.
The pain in my abdomen intensified, a physical manifestation of my agony. I stumbled back to my room, locking the door. My brother Chris called, saying I' d sent a blank text. I heard Aisha' s soft giggle in the hall. She was here, in my house, looking healthy and triumphant.
Her eyes met mine through the crack in the door, a cruel, deliberate look that said, "I have him. You have nothing." My mind went blank with rage, then settled into a chilling calm. The game was on. His Death Day, Her Wedding Day
Romance The phone felt heavy in my hand, a cold, dead weight.
It had been a year since I last heard her voice, a year of silence that felt like a lifetime.
My doctor' s words echoed in my head: "Glioblastoma, stage four. I' m sorry, Ethan. We' re talking months, maybe less."
I called her, my thumb hovering over the button.
"Happy wedding day," I said, pushing the words out. "And the second thing… you once promised that you' d carry my coffin after I die."
The line went dead.
A week after that promise, Olivia had left me. "I never loved you, Ethan," she had said, her face a mask of indifference.
Her words broke me more than the illness ever could.
That' s why I was in Zurich, in a sterile room, scheduled to end my life tomorrow.
But then I saw her, by the lake, skipping stones, just like we used to.
As I took a step towards her, a man came up, wrapping his arm around her waist. Liam Stone.
"Olivia' s fiancé," he said, extending a hand. "We' re actually getting married tomorrow."
My death day would be her wedding day. The universe had a sick sense of humor.
I fled, only to stumble into the path of an oncoming tram. Olivia saved me, pulling me back.
But as she pulled me up, her sleeve rode up, and I saw it: a silver bracelet, engraved with "L.S."
She had been with him while we were still together. My life, my love, my everything, was a lie.
"I' m dying," I told her, hoarse. "I have a brain tumor."
Her facade cracked. Then, she asked me for a favor. "I need you to take the photos, Ethan. Just for the ceremony."
I agreed, on one condition: "I want a photo. Just one. Of you and me. Together."
She agreed, then immediately abandoned me for Liam.
At the wedding, she used my origami stars, our special date on her new wedding ring.
"It never meant anything, Ethan," she said, her eyes cold. "It was never real."
I was numb. I left, heading back to the clinic, my fate sealed.
Then, a text from Liam: We could use an extra hand with some last-minute wedding preparations.
He was trying to buy my compliance, to turn my final day into a transaction.
Fine, I replied.
I didn' t know why I agreed. Maybe I needed to burn the image of her happiness into my brain so I could finally let go. The Chef, The CEO, and The Second Chance
LGBT+ We were two weeks away from our wedding, a culmination of seven years I' d poured into supporting Nicole' s dream.
Then, she dropped a bomb: she was going to be a surrogate for Ryan, her deceased mentor' s manipulative son, because "he needed this."
She left me stranded at a funeral in a storm, prioritized his emotional needs over my life-threatening allergy, and when I faced a high fever alone, she quietly packed an overnight bag to go stay with him.
Each abandonment was a calculated betrayal, a casual cruelty that ripped through my heart, leaving me invisible and discarded.
I looked at her, at the woman who had systematically erased my worth, and realized: my future, my very existence, meant absolutely nothing to her.
So I wrote a desperate Instagram post: "Wedding in two weeks. Need a new bride. Any takers?" My phone buzzed, and an unknown number with a Seattle area code changed everything. Wives of War: A Hale Family Saga
Billionaires We were the Hale brothers, Liam and Ethan, groomed to inherit an empire of power and influence.
Our upcoming engagement dinner wasn't just a celebration; it was the strategic alliance that would cement our dynasty.
But on the eve of that pivotal night, a blinding flash, a screech, and a brutal car crash threw us into a living nightmare.
I saw it all with horrifying clarity: our future, laid bare.
Our names, smeared across every screen as traitors.
Our father' s empire, dissolving into dust.
And leading the charge?
Our fiancées, Ava and Chloe, their faces masks of cold righteousness as they delivered soul-crushing lies to federal investigators, all orchestrated by Julian, their hidden puppet master.
Ava accusing me of illegal server access, Chloe claiming Ethan's desperation.
Two unforgivable lies, whispered by the women we loved, fueled by a shadow.
The memory of a gun in my hand, Ethan's shot, then my own – the only escape from prison – was an unbearable weight.
Then, a gasp.
The smell of antiseptic.
Waking in a hospital bed, Ethan beside me, his eyes wide with the same shared horror.
The nurse smiled brightly: "Just in time for your family dinner tonight!"
The engagement dinner.
Our last chance.
Not fools this time. Her Ice Heart, His Bitter End
Romance My father arranged my marriage to Liam, the man I' d secretly loved for a decade.
But on our wedding night, Liam, seeing only a gilded cage and forced manipulation, turned his back, muttering, "You got what you wanted, Ava."
He fled overseas for three years, leaving me to raise our daughter, Grace, alone.
He returned with his ex-girlfriend Chloe and her daughter Skylar.
Liam shamelessly favored Skylar, explicitly neglecting Grace, even re-gifting Chloe's old scarf to me.
Confirmation of his true life came from a public video where he boasted of "peak happiness" with Chloe and her child.
My heart, once foolishly hopeful, shattered into ice.
The man I loved was a brutal illusion; the one in that video, smiling with another's child, was real.
How could he be so utterly cruel to his own flesh and blood, treating me merely as a disposable burden?
The final snap came when Grace suffered a severe allergic reaction.
Liam, however, prioritized Skylar' s minor heat rash, diverting critically needed specialists.
As Grace gasped, her innocent whisper, "Mommy, if Daddy likes Skylar more, it's okay. I just need you," ignited an unbreakable resolve.
He would never hurt her again. Second Chance With My Disabled Boyfriend
Young Adult Caleb served as an assistant for four years and a canary for three years.
I never thought I could walk out of that villa that imprisoned me.
Nathan, the poor school grass with disabled legs, returned after six years abroad and successfully defeated the Griffin Group.
Caleb went bankrupt and became a destitute.
Nathan carried me out of that villa, holding me in his hands like a princess for a year.
On my 26th birthday, I was killed by Caleb in the villa.
Nathan, covered in blood, held me and said calmly, "Yaoyao, you go first, I will follow soon."
Looking at his tearful eyes, I desperately prayed to the gods to save him and let him live.
The gods answered my prayers.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to 18 years old.
Nathan, this time it's my turn to save you. You might like
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret
Rabbit My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine.
Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family.
To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset.
They both thought I was a broken doll they could control.
I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice.
She sang it, and now her career is over.
Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground. To Ruin Him, I Married His Rival
Rabbit Andrew Hebert, the man who promised to protect me, stood on a stage and announced his engagement to my tormentor. It wasn't just heartbreak; it was a business deal. He was selling me to a creditor to cover his gambling debts.
The applause of the powerful families was a death sentence, each clap sealing my fate as collateral. Andrew had paraded me here just to show everyone I was an asset to be liquidated, while his new fiancée smirked at me from the stage.
I was trapped, with no money and no one to turn to. The man I loved was leading me to the slaughter.
But as I fled into the library, a voice emerged from the shadows, deep and dangerous.
Damien Maddox. The Dark Don. The only man Andrew feared.
He offered me a different kind of cage, one with the power to burn Andrew's world to the ground.
With nothing left to lose, I looked the devil in the eyes.
"Take me with you." BOUND TO THE MAFIA LORD
Nova Writes. TRIGGER WARNING:
This book contains physical harm, torture, explicit contents including- Dark themes, erotic sex scenes, non consensual situations. And mature topics including trauma, loss.
While this is a romance story,
READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"You're mine now," he breathed those words on my neck, his hands trailing down my body and stopping only to linger on my thighs. "I'm Axel Salvatore Rossi. And whatever I want- I get."
* * * * *
Bound to a man she barely knew, Olivia is confined to a world of games and organized crime. After her sister steals a priceless item, she's left to pay- with her existence being tied with the mafia lord, Axel.
What starts as an unexpected encounter turns out to be something more. Passion ignites, past secrets are revealed, and an ex lover knocks at the door to interrupt a new beginning.
Olivia must make a choice- play the game, or fight the players who play dirty...
My Cold Heart: Rejecting The Mafia Boss
Jia Zhong My husband, the Outfit’s most feared Consigliere, stood up and buttoned his suit jacket.
He had just convinced a jury that Sofia Moretti was innocent.
But we both knew the truth: Sofia had poisoned my mother over a spilled martini on her Valentino dress.
Instead of comforting me, Dante looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"If you make a scene," he whispered, gripping my arm until it bruised, "I will bury you in a psychiatric ward so deep even God won't find you."
To protect the Family alliance, he sacrificed his wife.
When I tried to fight back, he drugged me at a gala.
He let a private investigator take photos of me, naked and unconscious, just to have leverage to keep me silent.
He paraded Sofia around our penthouse, letting her wear my dead mother’s shawl while I was banished to the staff quarters.
He thought he had broken me.
He thought I was just a nurse’s daughter he could manage.
But he made a fatal error.
He didn't read the "committal forms" I handed him to sign.
They were divorce papers, transferring his assets to me.
And the night of the yacht party, while he toasted to his victory with my mother's killer, I left my wedding ring on the deck.
I didn't jump to die.
I jumped to be reborn.
And when I resurfaced, I made sure Dante Russo burned for every sin. Claimed By The Mafia Don.
Celess Penelope's life takes a brutal turn when her arranged marriage to Max Castillo is shattered. The night before their wedding, her step sister attacks her and kills her mother.
Penelope survives the attack, but her face is left severely damaged. After undergoing surgery to restore her appearance, she vows revenge on everyone who wronged her, especially her stepsister, who not only killed her mother but also married Max, the man Penelope was meant to marry.
Training under a dangerous crime boss, Penelope prepares to take down the Castillo family. She's given one task: kill the Castillo's Don in exchange for her revenge.
To do that, she'll have to seduce Silvio Castillo, the ruthless Mafia Don, and use him to destroy the family from the inside.
But as she gets closer to Silvio, she starts to feel something she never expected: real attraction.
Now, as she faces the consequences of her plan, Penelope must decide what's more important, revenge, or the man she's falling for.
Will he forgive her for trying to kill him?
Will a quest for revenge destroy their love?
Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. His Unwanted Wife: The Genius Artist Returns
Zaccaria Linn On our fifth anniversary, my husband slid a black velvet box across the table.
Inside wasn't a diamond ring, but a fountain pen.
"Sign the separation papers, Aurora," Ethan said. "Ilene is spiraling again. She needs to see we are over."
I was the wife of the Mafia Underboss, yet I was being discarded for the Family Ward.
Before I could answer, Ilene stormed into the restaurant.
She shrieked that I was still wearing his ring and threw a bowl of boiling lobster bisque directly at my chest.
As my skin blistered and peeled, Ethan didn't rush to me.
He hugged her.
"It's okay," he soothed the woman who had just assaulted me. "I've got you."
The betrayal didn't stop there.
When Ilene pushed me down the stairs days later, Ethan erased the security footage to protect her from the police.
When I was kidnapped by his enemies, I called his emergency line—the one meant for life-or-death situations.
He declined the call.
He was too busy holding Ilene's hand to save his wife.
That was the moment the chain broke.
As the kidnapper's van sped onto the highway, I didn't wait for a rescue that would never come.
I opened the door and jumped into the dark.
Everyone thought Aurora Bruce died on that pavement.
Two years later, Ethan stood outside a gallery in Paris, looking at the woman he had destroyed, finally realizing he had protected the wrong one. The Capo's Scarred Wife: A Vicious Comeback
Sofia Wade I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me.
But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest.
The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me.
They didn't.
Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her.
They let me burn to keep her warm.
When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages.
That was the moment Elena Vitiello died.
I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York.
By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring.
"You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them.
"Burn for it." Marrying The Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Mafia Brother
Nero Daniels My fiancé left me standing alone at the podium during our rehearsal dinner to rush to the side of a woman whose only illness was a desperate need for attention.
He humiliated me in front of the heads of the Five Families, abandoning our alliance to scoop his "dying" mistress off the floor.
I didn't cry. I didn't run. I walked straight to the head table, to the most terrifying man in the city—his older brother, the Don.
"The Woodward family owes me a husband," I declared calmly.
An hour later, I was married to the Capo dei Capi. But my ex-fiancé didn't accept his demotion.
He kidnapped me, strapping me to a chair in a soundproof basement.
For three days, he drained my blood pint by pint to "save" his mistress, Jaidyn, who watched me fade while she casually ate an apple.
"Take another bag," she ordered, smiling at my agony. "She still has too much fight in her."
As the cold crept up my chest and my vision blurred, I realized I was going to die for a lie, drained dry by a madman.
Then, the steel door detonated.
Through the smoke and debris walked my husband, not with a ransom, but with a serrated knife and a promise to burn them alive. 
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